things that go bump in the night
by theeflowerchild
Summary: "All I know is that I'm eighteen-years-old," a sad smile surfaced on his beautiful face, "I've been dead for over seventy-years, and I was told that one day—today, perhaps—somebody would give me my life back." Her eyes widened. "I think you are that person."
1. Chapter 1

Human has been moving around forever. At the start of humankind, man was nomadic; they did not even bother settling in homes, making villages, growing crops, or anything of the sort. It just seemed unnatural to stay in one place.

And in this day in age, movement isn't a rarity at all. Whether it be the need for a change of scenery, the acquiring of a new job, the start of a family, or anything else that flutters to your mind when you think of a reason why your best friend had to move, or a family member.

So, naturally, Sakura was no exception. When her incredibly intelligent father acquired a fabulous job that forced them to move from Tokyo, Japan to New York, New York (a job that he just _could not_ pass up), it was no surprise when they had to uproot the family and venture into the states. People moved every day, and as saddening as it was for the poor girl to have to leave her lovely friends, amazing boyfriend, close neighbors, and family, the world kept turning.

And, with moving being such a common thing, there was absolutely nothing to fear, right? Sakura has had friends move—granted, not this far away. Maybe from Tokyo to Kyoto; she even once had a friend who moved from Japan to China for a job (which was considerably far away, or so she thought)!

So when they moved into a cozy little, one-hundred-some-odd-year-old, Brown Stone, courtesy his father's company, she expected the norm. She would attend the high school in the East Village, make friends, become situated in the eclectic village, and learn all the hot spots, fun things to do, and wonderful places to eat.

And she would move on with her new life in New York and live a normal, American life, no matter how different and difficult it would be.

Little did she know what this ancient Brown Stone had in store for her.

* * *

**things that go bump in the night**

theeflowerchild

chapter one

* * *

Sakura couldn't help but drop her jaw (and everything currently residing in her hands) when she saw her room that resided on the third floor of their home. She found the way the house was built to be strange—four floors, but incredibly narrow. Not that there wasn't enough space, or anything, because their house in Japan was virtually the same size, just two floors. One would easily find the architecture of the house a little on the unconventional side, she thought, but it was an absolutely beautiful home nonetheless.

On the first floor was a small (and she meant _small_) sitting area by the door, right in front of the stairs, their lovely little, cream-colored kitchen, and a beautiful dining area her mother had yet to set up. When you walked up the stairs to the second floor, the living room resided. It was a fresh ruby color with cream-colored, somewhat damaged wood lining at the top of the wall; they were still deciding whether or not to repaint this room, because it was a lovely color, and in fine condition, but her mother thought it wasn't quite _her style_. Sakura reminded herself to beg her mother to keep the lovely shade of red and cream trimmings. Nothing else was on that floor just yet, but the moving truck would arrive soon with all their furniture.

The third floor was Sakura's room, entirely, and she immediately fell in love with it. Cream-colored walls, mahogany trimmings, and a beautiful bay-view window, though it was half the size of a normal, huge one. She also had her own bathroom, with shower and all, so there'd be no fighting in the morning (hopefully.) In Japan, they only had one shower, so constant fighting was inevitable.

Her bed was already there, but that was it so far; she couldn't wait to play with her new room, and revel in the absolute beauty she'd be living in. The floor above her was her parent's room which she had yet to see, but she assumed was just as beautiful. She could already hear her mother gushing above her, and safely assumed her father was just rolling his eyes.

Sakura loved her parents—she really did. They were very close, and a very happy family. She also had an older brother, in his late twenties, who did not live with them, but they were all incredibly close, nonetheless. It broke her heart knowing she wouldn't be seeing her brother for a very, very long time—she looked up to him like no other. He was incredibly intelligent, just like her father, with a mooted personality, just like him as well. He was nothing less of his spitting image, minus the fiery red hair, of course.

Her lovely brother, Sasori, was the only biological relative she had; they had been warmly adopted into the Hatake family at a very, very young age; Sasori being ten and Sakura being one. She didn't know much about her biological family, but she didn't care much, either. She was happy with the way things were, and wouldn't change them for all the riches in the world.

Her father, Hatake Kakashi, was an incredibly intelligent man, with looks to boot; silver hair, grayed with age, that he never bothered to dye. He was only in his late forties, having gone gray at an early age, making him look incredibly distinguished and all the more handsome. He didn't speak much, but when he did, it was always incredibly insightful—or incredibly stupid. Sakura found that, in most situations, he never quite knew what to say. One would call it social awkwardness, but his lovely daughter usually called it idiocy.

Her mother was an incredibly beautiful, cheerful young woman who wanted nothing more than a family of her own. Kurenai was unable to conceive, after years of trying, but the couple decided not to find out who was the one who made it unable for them to conceive, and it never bothered them. She was happy with her two, beautiful, red-headed children. She was thankful, and loved them more than life itself. She was a very warm woman, with bright, red eyes and long, black hair; why she never was a model, Sakura had no idea, because she claimed her mother was one of the most beautiful women in Japan. She was a teacher, adored by all her students, and it broke her heart to leave her beloved school, but she'd do anything for her family and her husband that she loved so much.

Sakura herself was a beautiful girl; she had the strangest shade of red hair, virtually _pink_, but she always referred to herself as a red-head. It was a beautiful, rare color she had never seen anybody else have; when she was younger, she was bullied ridiculously over the strange color, but she grew to love it and savor it as her best feature. She had huge, emerald-colored eyes that engulfed her entire face, just like her brother, a tiny nose, and the lightest of pink lips. She was incredibly short, incredibly skinny, with an average sized bust (unlike her mother, whose were _huge_), but a wonderful set of hips. She was an absolutely beautiful girl, though she'd never admit it, with intelligence she gained from her father and the bubbliest of personalities from her lovely mother. She was a happy, average teenage girl.

They were an incredibly happy family, yes, and their moving was okay only because of that fact. They were close, near inseparable, and would do anything for each other. Never would you find a happier, more normal, stereotypical family like the Hatake's.

Sakura continued to look around her lovely room, excitement lighting up her eyes. She touched the window-sill, where she assumed her mother would end up filling with flowers, and reveled at the beautiful mahogany trimmings that had to be _at least_ one-hundred-years old. She was absolutely mesmerized by the beauty of the room that she didn't recognize the closet door slowly open, with the smallest of creaks.

She sat down on her mattress and flopped down on her back, long pink hair sprawling all around her. She was exhausted from the move, and the jet-lag, and did _not_ feel like doing anything else today. She just wanted to catch some z's, but she knew her mother would be expecting her to start grabbing some boxes from the truck outside their new home. Thing such as clothes, papers, books, and all the things they brought with them from Japan. Tomorrow the furniture truck would be coming with a multitude of men to set up their new home, and her mother was a little more than excited to see how their beautiful house would look with the new furniture, but Sakura was a little excited too.

_Just a little_.

With Sakura's mind running with all the thoughts of her new home, her eyelids slowly fell heavy with exhaustion. Knowing she _probably shouldn't fall asleep_, her body did anyway, and Sakura fell into a deep sleep for the rest of the afternoon in her lovely new room, with a smile on her face.

* * *

"_Sakura Hatake_," a female voice screamed from the first floor, "what the _heck_ are you doing, young lady!?"

Sakura jolted up at the scream, looking around the room quickly, then looking at her watch, and realizing it was already seven PM. She ran down the stairs without a second thought to see her mother at the foot of the stairs, tapping her heel impatiently.

"Mother, I am _so sorry_!" Sakura threw her hands up in defense, "I fell asleep! I'm sorry, I'll go grab my things now!"

Her mother sighed. "It's alright, we're all incredibly exhausted. Go grab a few boxes, and then make sure you eat, Missy!" Her mother smiled, "And _then_ you should go back to bed. Don't forget to get your laptop out of your Dad's car, too!"

Sakura smiled back at her mother and ran out the door to the moving van; she'd get her laptop later, she had all night, now. Since she napped for a few hours, she'd never get back to sleep; whenever she took naps, she found herself up at the wee hours of the morning, unable to fall back asleep. Oh well, she'd be able to email a few friends her current status with her home, hopefully talk to her ex-boyfriend…

She grabbed two boxes labeled "Sakura's clothes" with a silly little smiley-face her mother made on the box, and carried them up the stairs. She reminded herself silently to use the dumbwaiter with the heavier boxes, such as her books and little trinkets. She set them down on the floor of the room and started taking her clothes out of the boxes. She saw one box was full of pants, so she set it to the side; she'd need her dresser for that. Next, she saw the box with her tops, and sighed; she'd have to put them away now. She had hoped it'd be her undergarment box, so she'd somehow _forget_ to grab the top box and do it another night.

"Oh well…" She sighed, picking up a few shirts. She remembered how her mother said she put some hangers in her closet already, making her job a little easier; she wouldn't have to run to the truck and get the box labeled "hangers."

She made her way to her closet door, and went to open it, but she found it to be sealed shut. She sighed, again, in frustration, and put both her hands on the knob. "Old crap…" She said to herself, and yanked the door open in one swift movement.

It was a walking closet, to her surprise, but was completely black with darkness. She saw a string hanging from the ceiling. "Probably the light," she said, and grabbed the string without a second thought, yanking it.

There were close to thirty or forty hangers her mother had hanged for her on the rods, but other than that, the closet was completely empty. She noticed that her closet had a latch on the ceiling, probably leading to an attic-type room, she thought, hidden behind her parents' room. She didn't think much of it, seeing as older houses like this had strange hidden rooms like that. She read a paper on it, actually; it was incredibly common for older houses like this to be set up so strangely. She didn't even bother opening the room just yet, and went to work, hanging up all her clothes.

* * *

It was nearing 3 AM by now. _"The haunting hour,"_ Sakura thought with a little laugh. She had finished hanging up all her clothing, gathered a lamp from the truck, and her laptop from her father's car, and was sitting comfortably for the night under a soft, down-blanket her mother gave her, with said light on, engrossed in the article she was reading on her laptop. It was quiet; both her parents had fallen asleep, and all she could hear were police sirens and loud cars every once in a while (something she was not used to, seeing as suburban Japan was incredibly quiet).

She yawned loudly, stretching her arms, still incredibly engrossed in her thoughts and her article. When she finished, she leaned back onto her headboard, staring at the ceiling above her. It was a cream color, just like her walls, and _incredibly interesting_, apparently.

"I'm exhausted," she commented to herself, not expecting an answer.

"You should go to sleep, then."

Sakura's eyes widened as she jumped to her feet off of her mattress, looking around her room. Her eyes were completely alert as she grabbed her laptop, snapped it shut, and got ready to use it _as a weapon_…

… But the room was completely empty.

She then heard a soft chuckle, a felt tears well in her eyes.

"Who—who's there!?"

There was no answer. Was she going crazy? No, of course not—she _definitely_ heard something. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that she heard a deep, smooth voice answer her… But there was nobody in her room. What the _hell_ was going on?

"Answer me! Who's there!?"

She felt a cool breeze touch her shoulder, and a shiver ran down her spine, but her window was closed. Now she was scared—undoubtedly _terrified_.

She grabbed her cellphone next to her and checked the time. "Three o'clock," she whispered to herself.

"Yes, it is _three o' clock._ Do you know what that means, young lady?" She felt another shiver go down her spine as the deep voice answered her, and it took everything in her not to _scream at the top of her lungs_ just in case she was, in fact, crazy.

Before she could even open her mouth, either way, she wasn't saying anything—as a hand was now covering her big ol' mouth, not allowing her to scream or even _reply_.

"It's the haunting hour, girl." Now she _knew_ somebody was here, but she did not struggle—you're not supposed to in these types of situations, right? "Do you know who I am?"

Well, that was a dumb question. How could she answer, anyway? Her mouth was covered and she was virtually immobilized in fear, and it took the person behind her a second to realize that. He coughed awkwardly, and made a comment like, "Oh, sorry," and removed his hand from her mouth.

She almost laughed, _"this guy breaks into my house and then apologizes for covering my mouth?"_ She didn't though, of course, since she was _scared out of her freaking mind_.

"H-how did you get in here!?" She stammered, trying to hold back her tears. "T-the door… It was closed! A-and, the windows a-are locked!"

He chuckled again, "I've been here the entire time."

"What are you talking about!?" She turned around and… nobody was there?

"Do not scream." He said—it was more of a command. She heard the voice sigh, as if he was frustrated. "I've never actually _done_ this before—this place has been abandoned for years, and I'm not technically allowed _to leave_ and I'm surprised you even _heard me_ because everybody who enters _never hears me_ and…" He cut off his rambling. "You are the first person in over seventy-years to actually here my voice, girl." This was the first time she heard his voice soften, "I was the first person to ever live in this house, with my family."

She held back a gasp, "But that was one-hundred-years ago!" She fell to the floor. "I'm crazy, that must be it. I'm fuckin' crazy. There's no other answer—there is something _wrong with me_. I'm hearing fucking _voices_. What the _hell_ is wrong with me!?"

Suddenly, she saw a silhouette form near the closet, in a shadowed place. It did not move, but the voice was coming from that area now. "You're not crazy, actually." The body took a step closer—it was tall, very tall, surely over six feet—and then stopped. "In fact, you're a lot more _not crazy_ than you think." The figure took another step closer, "You are possibly the best thing that's ever happened to me."

The figure stepped out of the dark, and it was a boy. A beautiful boy, Sakura mused to herself, despite her current situation. With incredibly messy black hair (but hey, if you've been here for over seventy-years, wouldn't you be a little messy?) raggedy, black clothes, white-as-a-ghost skin, and looked no older than eighteen.

She couldn't help the little gasp that escaped her lips at the beauty of the tall, lanky boy—thing?—in front of her, slowly making his way toward her. He looked ghastly, sick, and exhausted, with dark rings under his huge, empty, coal-colored eyes. He walked slowly, and unsurely toward her, but when he was no more than a few centimeters from her, he dropped to a squatting position, so that there's noses were almost touching.

She was undoubtedly shaking, he noticed, and she had a little film of sweat forming on her forehead—he assumed from nerves, because, _hell_, he was nervous too—her eyes were as wide as flying saucers, welling up with tears—she had _better_ not cry, he thought—and she looked like she was unable to move.

"I… I'm sorry," he apologized, running his hands through his thick, black hair. He had a cheeky grin on face, and looked like he was about to burst into tears himself. "I… Well, I wasn't exactly sure what to do. I mean, you _heard_ me. You freaking _heard_ me—Sorry, I'm rambling again. I know this is strange, and you're probably wondering, 'Hey, what the heck is a ghost doing in my house—"

He was cut off immediately by a shriek from the girl in front of him as she backed up into her wall, hitting her head on the window-sill.

He had half a mind to slam his face into his palm, but he refrained, and decided to use his words, "Would you _shut up—_"

"I-I'm sorry. Did you say _ghost?!" _She managed to muster out between the sobs that were starting to fall from her mouth. "No, you cannot be a _ghost_ because _ghosts aren't real_—"

"On the contrary, m'lady," he couldn't help but roll his eyes, "Well, actually, I can't say much for other ghosts, since I've never actually _seen_ one other than me, but I'm sorry they're out there, if _I'm_ out there."

She suddenly stopped breathing, and looked down at her palms. They were sweating too—and no wonder, the girl looked like she'd just seen a ghost.

Oh wait.

"You need to _breath_, woman." He started waving his hands in front of her face, and eventually, she began breathing again at a normal pace. Thank god, too—because that's _exactly_ what he needed, _another_ ghost in his house.

"So," she sat up, licking her lips and crossing her legs Indian-style. "I… you're a ghost?"

"That is correct."

"And," she brushed a pink lock behind her ear, getting the mess out of her face, and attempting to get a better view of the beautiful, uh, _ghost_ in front of her, "And you live here."

"This is my home."

"Actually, it's _my_ home—" she received a lovely glare, "—but… Why are you here?"

"I…" he took a deep sigh, "I'm not really sure. I think that's why you're here. I… I think you can hear me for a reason. I think you can help me."

"You think _I,"_ she pointed a finger at herself, a dumbfounded look on her face, "Am here to help you?"

"All I know is that I'm eighteen-years-old," a sad smile surfaced on his beautiful face, "I've been dead for over seventy-years, and I was told that one day—today, perhaps—somebody would give me my life back."

Her eyes widened.

"I think you are that person… I think you will help me get my body back." He shrugged and a more cheerful smile surfaced on his face, "Where ever the fuck it is."

She smiled a little, and let out a small cough, clearing her throat. Her voice was incredibly hoarse when she spoke, "What is your name?"

"Uchiha Sasuke," he stuck out his hand, as if too shake hers, "At your service."


	2. Chapter 2

**things that go bump in the night  
**theeflowerchild

chapter two

* * *

"Okay, let me get this _straight_," by now, she had moved to sit on her old-fashioned spring-mattress, lightly bouncing—a nervous habit she had picked up from her father, along with the sheepish grin that was plastered along her face. The _ghost_ (she still wasn't sure yet) was leaning back against her wall, eyes narrowed in exasperation, after almost twenty-minutes of repeating exactly what was going on. "This is your house."

"_Yes."_

"You are… like, one-hundred years old."

"Eighty-seven," he corrected, and then meekly nodded his head toward her, "Give or take a few months."

She nodded. "You are dead."

He sighed. _"Yes,_ I am dead."

She shivered, as if she was disgusted, but it showed no sign on her face. "Your name is Uchiha Sasuke." She pointed at his figure (could she call it a person?).

He only nodded in confirmation.

"I am Hatake Sakura." She pointed at herself.

He lifted a perfect eyebrow. "… I guess so, yes."

She shook her head, pink strands flying about her, and curled her knees to her chest. She shoved her head into the crevice between her chest and her knees, and let a long, exhausted sigh escape her lips. "I'm so confused."

He nearly laughed. "How can you be confused if you've repeated the situation _at least six times?"_

She popped her head up. "Are you sure you're a ghost?"

"Do you want me to pass through you again?"

She shrieked as quietly as she possibly could (she didn't want to _wake the dead_ or anything), shoving her hands up in front of her face. "No, don't do that!"

He did laugh this time, remembering when they shook hands, how she accused him of not being a ghost right then and there. _"How can you be a ghost if I can touch you, huh!? If you were a ghost, you wouldn't be _tangible!"

He had lifted an eyebrow in response, and passed straight through her without a second thought. She had blanched as white as a _ghost_ (ironically), and fell over in her spot on the floor, tears generating at the corners of her eyes, but not allowing even a breath to escape her then-blue lips—blue from his spirit being cold? He did not know. He had never done such a thing before, but was only excited when it _actually worked_.

He had only started to feel bad when he noticed she was crying. _"Listen, girl, I'm sorry, it was just to prove to you that I was a ghost—I didn't mean to freak you out!"_

"_You 'didn't mean to freak me out!?" _She had yelled in response, suddenly falling out of her stupor. _"You're a _ghost_, but you 'didn't mean to freak me out'? That's rich."_

There had been a little bit of bickering after this between them, until she finally surfaced onto her bed, and then here they were, six repeats later, and her still not so sure of his _ghostly being_.

"Listen—Sakura, was it?" She nodded. "Listen, Sakura, you have been thrown into my life for a reason. Many people have lived in this brown-stone over the years, and as much as I have tried, they have not noticed me. I sat in years of solitude, in this empty, lonely house, hoping that one day—_someday_—somebody would hear me speak, hear me whine, _see me_, and you are that person."

She nodded again. "Uchiha-san," she began, and tried to find the correct words to form her question. She stared at him for a few moments—a little unnerving, he thought—and then she continued. "Why aren't you… in… heaven…?" She trailed off, immediately regretting asking the question when she saw him cringe.

It was very quiet between them for a moment. She could hear a police siren from outside her window, but it did not seem to faze him. She opened her mouth slightly, then closed it, then opened it again, then closed it—looking somewhat like a blubbering fish.

"I'm not sure." He finally answered, looking at his feet.

She almost wanted to ask 'how did you die?', but she refrained, feeling like she didn't know the ghost well enough to ask such a question.

Instead, she fell back onto her bed, letting another exasperated sigh release from her lips, blowing her bangs from her mint-colored eyes. "This is so complicated."

"I guess," he shrugged, "But not as complicated as you think. It could be worse."

"How the _hell_ could it be worse?"

He smirked. "Well, Sakura, I might not be here at all."

She sat up and glared. "How could that be _worse?_"

"Because then you wouldn't be _blessed_ with my _lovely_ presence," the comment was smug, he was obviously trying to lighten the mood, a grin on his beautiful face. She noted that she liked his smile, but she'd never tell him.

She only rolled her eyes in response. "Yeah, yeah…" She trailed off. "What have you been doing for the last seventy-years?" She looked at him with saddened eyes. "It must've been really lonely, all by yourself…" She added as a last-minute thought.

He shrugged, but nodded anyway. "I guess you could say that. It was interesting, observing the different family dynamics—occasionally, I'd mess with the families," he smirked, "You know: move vases, break cups, push pencils off desks, flutter the curtains a little when the windows weren't open," he stuck his fingers up and wriggled them around, in a mock-scary type motion, "Scary ghost stuff!" He made a "wooh"-ing sound, like a stereotypical ghost did, and got a giggle in response from the girl in front of him.

"Sometimes I read—it was interesting, seeing how literature slowly changed over the years, just like it was interesting to see how technology changed." He pointed to her computer, a puzzled look on his face, "You'll have to show me how that contraption works when I get my body back."

She nodded her head, a sad smile on her face. "I hope I can live up to your expectations, Uchiha-san."

"Please," he smiled reassuringly at her. "Call me Sasuke. And I would expect nothing less than perfect from you, Sakura—though I may not know you well—yet—I expect great things. I expect positive results."

She grinned at him. "I am pretty great…" She laughed at her own little joke, though the Uchiha in front of her only rolled his eyes.

"I'm glad this went…" he looked for the right word, "… well. It could've gone worse."

Her face filled with confusion. "How-so?"

"Well, for starters," he pointed at the window, "You could've jumped, thinking you had gone crazy. You could've screamed, woken your parents, who would've been _incredibly _concerned. You could've called the police. Many things could've happened—but they didn't. I'm kind of glad I scared the crap out of you," he winked at her and received a pout in return, "It allowed you to sit in shock and allow me to speak. You're very accepting, Sakura."

She nodded her head. "You're lucky I'm so great," she reiterated, winking back at him.

There was a small silence between them, either not sure what to say, seeing as they were in the strangest of situations.

"It's late." He broke the silence. "You're tired, as you noted an hour ago. I live up in the crawl space above your closet," he pointed at her door, "So I won't be watching you sleep," he winked again, playful little ghost, Sakura thought. "I think you should get some rest, and I'll tell you everything I know in the morning. Does that sound like a deal?"

She gave him a soft smile, as she finally registered how tired she actually was—though she wasn't sure if she actually was going to get any sleep tonight. Though, if it'd be anybody who could sleep after meeting a ghost and being told she'd be the one to get his body back and all other crazy, supernatural, borderline _terrifying _things, it'd be Haruno Sakura. She fell back down against her bed, and watched him way away, toward the door.

"Goodnight Sakura."

"'Night, Sasuke." She gave him a nod and watched him float through the door—she'd have to make sure to tell him to actually _use_ the door next time, since she did find that whole "non-tangible" thing _kind-of creepy_—and allowed herself to close her eyes.

Sakura did not sleep much that night, but she did not stir either. Her mind went wild with thoughts of _what the hell just happened_. She had so many questions that only this ghost—Sasuke—could answer, but tomorrow was a new day, and the day after that, and the day after that.

She wondered if she could actually _do_ anything for this beautiful boy she was "blessed" with. Was she his savior? She hoped she could be—if anything, she would love to just be his company for the time-being, and do anything she can to help him.

Sakura decided that night that she would do _anything_ to help this desperate boy, no matter the consequence. Like her ex-boyfriend would say—this was fate, that this was the house she moved into, and that this boy could see her, and asked her for her help. It was fate that led her to this boy, and she would do anything in her power to see this boy get his life back (or as he had said, get his _body_ back—how? She had no clue.).

Yes, even though Sakura did not know a single thing about this boy, she immediately knew that this was her duty—to save this boy.

And she would do it at any cost.

* * *

Sakura hadn't realized she had actually dozed off until she found herself being shaken awake by a body hovering over her.

"S-Sasuke…?" She whined, stirring awake from her nap. Her hands flew to her eyes to wipe away the fog, but before she could realize who was waking her, she was shot with a question.

"Who's Sasuke?" The voice was female, and held a sort of amusement to it. "Already over Neji, I see?"

She realized it was her mother. She felt a blush fly to her cheeks, "No, mother, it's not what you think. Sasuke… is a character in a book."

She sat up from her position on the bed to notice the black-haired boy sitting on the window sill, an amused look on his face, his hair ruffled (maybe he did sleep, she noted; she'd have to ask later). "Oh, I'm a character from a book, am I?"

She ignored his little comment, and tried to keep her attention on her mother. "I'm sorry mom, I realize I slept in late—jet lag, I guess—I'll jump in the shower right away, okay?"

Her mother nodded her head. "Alright, Sakura-chan. Your father and I are going out to the furniture store—or, well, to _find_ a furniture store. We may not be home until late… I expect you to grab a few things from the truck outside, but don't strain yourself. We have it for another week and a half; just do what you can, okay?" Her mother smiled at her, and then a stern, paternal look surfaced on her face. "And make sure you eat young-lady! There are some eggs in the fridge that I hard-boiled this morning, it may not be a lot, but we don't really have groceries right now. I left a little money on the counter for you, in case you'd like to wander and grab lunch, just make sure you lock the door!" She winked at her daughter, "Wouldn't want any strangers getting it."

She nearly snorted at her mother, and shot a Look at the boy near the window sill. "Yes, mother, wouldn't want any _intruders_ or anything."

"Technically, _you're_ the intruder," Sasuke replied to her snide comment. "This is _my_ house."

"Don't worry mother, just go out and have fun with Dad," she gave her mother a sweet smile, and bad a shooing motion, almost as if she was trying to get rid of her—which she was, but her mother didn't notice. "I'll have my phone on me and I'll make sure to _eat_," she rolled her eyes at her mother.

Her mother gave a grin. "That's my girl!" She kissed her daughter's forehead, to which she rolled her eyes again. "Stay safe!" Her mother scurried out of her room, shutting her door softly. Sakura heard the soft click of her heels as she made her way down the stairs. She waited for the conversation between her mother and father to end and for the front door to shut before talking to the boy beside her.

"I have to shower." She stated, looking him straight in the eye.

He snorted. "… And?"

"You're not going to… look at me, are you?" She asked him, a small blush creeping on her cheeks.

His cheeks flamed bright red. "I—I would never! What the hell do you think I am!? Some—Some pervert!? My mother taught me better than that!" He waved his hands frantically at her, looking anywhere but her eyes.

She giggled, knowing she had embarrassed him, and took a laughable pride in it. "Okay, okay, I believe you—just, go in your room, because I plan on getting changed in here. Once I get dressed, eat lunch, and grab a few things from the truck, we can start with… whatever you planned on starting with, okay?" She shrugged her shoulders at him, not really knowing exactly what he had to tell her, but she had _many_ questions for him.

"_Better than the ones I asked last night,"_ she thought to herself jokingly, remembering the silly questions she kept reiterating all night.

He nodded, his cheeks still a light red, but he had turned back to her gaze. "Okay, I'll just go to the crawl-space."

She watched him make his way to the closet, before stopping him. "Can you use the door? It… kind-of creeps me out when you just walk through things."

He smirked. "Fine, fine, but eventually you'll have to get used to it."

She rolled her eyes. "We'll see."

He opened the door, but then immediately shut it once he was in the closet. She assumed he would float up—or something like that, she didn't really know what "magical powers" or _whatever_ he had, exactly—to the crawl space, rather than remove the later from the ceiling, and he was being respectful of her wishes.

How _sweet_.

She grabbed the towel and wash-rag her mother had left for on her clothing box on the floor, and walked straight for the bathroom.

Once she was in, she began running the water, so it would be warm when it touched her body. She stripped from her clothing, folding it neatly and leaving it on the counter-top. She noted the soap and shampoo her mother stationed for her in the shower and smiled—her mother was helpful, though sometimes annoying.

I guess that's where she got it from, she mused.

She entered the shower, stepping over the tub-part, and allowed the hot water to sooth her tired skin. She sighed, in both contentment and exasperation.

"What the _hell_ am I going to do…?"

* * *

After she had finished showering, and noting in her mind the hundreds of lovely questions she planned on asking the ghost, an hour had almost passed. She emerged, allowing the warm steam to wrap her body before grabbing a towel and wiping herself off.

When she entered back into her room, just in a towel, she went straight for the closet, and then stopped in her tracks?

"… _Is he in there?"_ She thought, but she needed to get her damn clothes! She sighed and wracked her fingers through her damp hair, _"I guess I'll find out, won't I?"_

She put her hand on the knob and opened the door slowly, as if to alert him of her presence if he were in there. Once she could see into her closet, she was relieved to find that he was not in there, but it still didn't stop her from regretting _actually_ hanging up her clothes last night. Since when did she keep a clean room?

The things she did to please her mother.

She grabbed the first dress should could find—she was in New York! And going out, no less! She wanted to look her best for her first day as a New Yorker!—and decided on a powder-blue sundress. She smiled a little sad smile, knowing her best friend, Hinata, had given this to her for her fifteenth birthday. She had to remember to give her a call today to let her know she was safe and sound and—she grimaced—_happy_.

Not that she wasn't _exactly _happy, it was just that it had only been a day and she already missed her friends. She felt an empty, aching spot in her heart when her mind wandered to all the friends she had left—Hinata, her best friend, Kiba, her neighbor she had grown up with, Shino, the lovely, strange boy she had met and grown close to through the others, TenTen, her older-sister type figure, and Neji-kun, her ex-boyfriend… Though only "ex" due to the fact that she was moving half-way around the world.

She shook herself out of her world when she felt tears gather at the corner of her eyes. "I'm not going to cry," she reminded herself, wiping away the crisp tears.

And she wouldn't, because she had promised everybody she wouldn't, just like they had promised her they would not.

She really needed to call them.

She sighed, leaving her closet and gather her undergarments from a box she had yet to unload. She let the idea that the boy was watching her escape her mind and got dressed, throwing on her pale-peach undergarments, followed by the dress. She ran her fingers through her wavy hair, just to remove some large knots, if they existed—her hair was fairly manageable, and she didn't have to do much with it, which she simply adored about it, let alone the color—and threw a lone necklace over her head.

She walked back into the bathroom to observe herself in the mirror. The mirror was old, with a metal trim around it, painted golden. The paint itself was chipping to reveal a silver-colored material, giving it an antique-like look—which it was, an antique. The mirror itself harbored only a few scratches, which she liked, seeing that the past inhabitants of the home took good care of the place. She liked what she saw, so she left the bathroom, and went over to her front window.

She looked down onto the streets, just to make sure she didn't see her parents' car; though she was fairly positive that they were not home. She didn't want to go and scream the ghost's name again, just so her mother could wonder why she'd be screaming a character from a book's name.

She cringed at the disgusting though.

"Sasuke!" Her voice was high-pitched and loud, and she saw the ghost come out of the closet, wincing.

"You're annoying."

She grinned. "So I've been told."

He sighed, racking a hand through his hair. "That was faster than I thought it would be." He smiled softly, reminiscent-like, "When my mother use to get dressed, she'd take _hours_… She did love to look her best, no matter the occasion."

Sakura giggled at his little tidbit about his mother, but then stuck her tongue out, to which he furrowed his brows. "Do I not look my best?"

He rolled his eyes. "You know that's not what I meant."

She gave him another sparkling grinned—she had a nice smile, he noted—and began deciding about lunch. "Would you like to come with me while I grab something to eat?"

He didn't reply and looked at the floor.

"… Can you leave the house?" She asked, not sure if it were the right question to be asking.

"I'm… not sure," he admitted, but then allowed his lips to form a sheepish grin. "We could find out, though."

She returned the smile. "Sounds good to me!"

The both trailed down the stairs together into the kitchen. Sakura grabbed the keys her mother had left on the counter—the marble of the counter was beautiful, she thought—and grabbed the little envelope of money.

"Damn it," she muttered to herself, "I left my purse in Dad's car…" She sighed, and without thinking, shoved the money in her bra, a habit she had picked up from her school friends.

The boy next to her turned a light pink, a look of frustration surfacing on his features. "What the _hell_ are you doing?"

She shrugged. "I don't have my purse on me."

He nearly dropped his jaw. "So you should your money in your brazier!?"

She nearly snickered at the old term—it had been interesting hearing him talk so far, he still tended to use terms that were common when he was young—and rolled her eyes. "This is a normal thing to do now. Either way, I have no shame," she winked.

"And... you just pull it out of your bra to pay?!" He asked, still confused, and perhaps disgusted by the idea. "You let some man watch you fish from your underwear!?"

She rolled her eyes again. "I usually take the money out before I get to the paying-stage. God, Sasuke, it's not that big a deal."

His mouth turned into a straight line. "I think it is. It's not very ladylike for a girl to just fish out of her brazier in public!"

She nearly bit his god-damn head off at the "ladylike" comment, but refrained, and decided to take the high road. "I guarantee you will see many women being "not very ladylike" today, then." She grinned.

He didn't bother to make another comment about the subject—maybe he'd say something again when she actually took the money out, he hadn't decided—and saw her head toward the door. A nervous look surfaced on his face. "What if… What if I can't, like… leave?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Then you stay here."

He rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I know _that_, but will you be… upset?"

She gave him a grin. "Why would I be upset? I mean, sure, as _invisible_ as you are, it's always nice to have somebody with me, but whether you're there or not, I'm the only person who will notice."

He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be hurt by her little comment, so he decided not to be, because he knew she didn't mean it like it sounded. That he wasn't real. He decided to nod his head, and watched her open the door. She stepped out, and he stepped out beside her, visibly wincing as he inched through the door was, anxious of what would happen.

"Nothing happened."

She raised a perfect, pink eyebrow. "Did you think you'd spontaneously combust?"

Now it was his turn to raise the eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"You know… explode?" She grinned at him.

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't think I would _explode_—but hey, at least now I know I can follow you."

"That's actually…" she trailed off, deciding on what word to use, "creepy." She decided on.

He rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean it like _stalking_ you, I just meant, now we know I can leave the house. I wonder if I can on my own."

"Let's find out now," she grinned, pointing in one direction, "I'll walk that way," she pointed in the opposite direction, "And you'll go that way."

He laughed at her silly request. "Alright, Sakura."

The both began walking in opposite direction, until suddenly, a jolt went through Sasuke's body, causing him to grimace, and he was drawn back to Sakura, nearly knocking the girl over.

She pouted. "If you're going to do that, at least try to make yourself non-tangible, or—or whatever!"

He frowned. "I didn't do that."

"What do you _mean_ you didn't do that?"

His frown deepened. "I mean that I didn't do that. I tried to leave your side, and some force drew me back to you—and it hurt, which is strange."

She looked around herself to make sure the streets were still as empty as when she left the house, though she guessed, in New York, it wasn't exactly _strange_ for strangers to be talking to themselves.

Though maybe she was stereotyping.

Or perhaps not.

"Can you… Can you not feel pain?" She asked him, unsure of what to exactly ask.

He stood still for a moment, thinking of how to reply. "Well, yes and no. I can… kind-of decide what pain I feel, if you understand. Say somebody shot a gun in my direction—I just happened to be in the line of fire, or something ridiculous like that—obviously, it wouldn't hurt. If I, say… fall," she giggled, "I feel standard pain, as if I were…" he searched for a word, clucking his tongue, "_alive_."

She smiled softly at the use of the word.

"Either way, I can't _die_," he laughed, "But I do feel pain, on occasion. That force though, whatever the hell it was, hurt—and I've never felt that before…" He trailed off, but then decided to continue. "Then again, I've never spoke to a human before," he finished, but then decided to add as a last comment, "It's just as new for me as it is for you."

She nodded her head at his logic, though she wasn't sure it was _exactly_ the same. Him speaking to a human is a _little different_ than her seeing a ghost, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she said, "I have many questions for you, but I won't ask them now." Her eyes searched the streets around her brown-stone; it was empty, despite a little old man sitting on this steps of his home, and a dog running through the streets, with a collar, but no owner. "We have to be very careful, Sasuke," she told him, her usual playful air leaving her body. "In public, we cannot speak unless it is an emergency. You can speak to me, of course, but if I don't reply, don't be offended. If it's urgent, we will find a place to speak. I can even pretend I'm talking into my phone, if it's that important, but we have to be careful—I don't need people thinking I'm crazy," then she giggled softly, her bubbly aura resurfacing along her body, "They already suspect it with the pink hair, let's not give them _more_ to talk about."

He grinned in agreement. "That sounds fair enough—now, why don't you eat, so we can get back to your house. I have much to tell you and I _will_ tell you everything I know."

She nodded her head. "I wouldn't expect anything less than everything.

* * *

**tbc**

* * *

**This story is probably going to be very long. Hm. Oh well, I enjoy writing it, I hope you enjoyed reading it. Review! **


	3. Chapter 3

**things that go bump in the night  
**theeflowerchild

chapter 3

* * *

He allowed himself to look at her, if only for a little bit.

She was a messy eater, he noticed; she had decided on some random vendor's Mexican selection, much to his distaste, but who was he to say anything? She'd have to learn on her own what it really meant to purchase food from a vendor (i.e. _food poisoning_).

Every once in a while, sour-cream would gather at the corners of her lips, or a black bean would fall from the hard shell it was in, landing in her little lap. She would let out a slew of curses (_how unladylike)_, praying she hadn't stained her little dress, and much to her satisfaction, she had yet to. It was cute, her messy little habits, but he'd never tell her such a thing.

Another thing he noticed about her was that she did not, in fact, eat meat (he thought that was _silly_, never had he heard of a person not eating meat, it was basic instinct!) and found that animals were just as important as humans. She had made little faces when the people in front of her ordered something with meat; her nose would scrunch up and her eyes would narrow, if only slightly, and it was _funny_ and _adorable_. He would laugh, knowing she couldn't ask what he found so funny, but he would receive a dirty look, nonetheless.

When she was done, she cleaned absolutely _everything_ off the table picnic table she had sat at in a near-by park, so it was usable for the next person, rather than leaving a mess. He found it oxymoronic, but a nice trait, seeing as, he had noticed, as years passed by, manors slowly deteriorated within the generations. He couldn't help but smile at her courteousness.

On top of all her little quirks, it was the first time he'd really been in contact with a girl (let alone a human being) and he figured he'd salvage as much as he could. Not to mention this girl was interesting; if he were in the same situation, he would've probably screamed, or _left_, or begged the ghost not to come near him, but no. Though she did freak out a little bit (who the hell wouldn't?), she allowed him into her (his) home, allowed him to tell her his story, who he was, what he hoped she could do, and allowed him to interact with her. Heck, she invited him to _lunch_, knowing they couldn't talk and he couldn't eat.

She was _sweet_.

She was also strange-looking, he noticed. _Never_ had he seen a girl with _pink hair_, of all things. He knew that the dress had changed; girls back when he was alive would _never_ dare dress in such a short dress, especially with no sleeves (unless they were a flapper, of course, but mother never let him go near them)! Girls had muted hair, always swept out of their faces, brushed to look absolutely _perfect_, while hers was messy and wavy and _pink_.

Who the hell had pink hair, anyway?

He sighed to himself; she gave him a strange look, noticing his exasperation, but he only plastered a smile on his face as they walked back toward her (his) home.

She walked ahead of him—it wasn't like they could talk, anyway, so she just kept going, lost in her thoughts—and he allowed himself to watch her, though he'd never let her notice.

He was intrigued by her, and the situation.

Uchiha Sasuke had some questions of his own.

* * *

"So, Sasuke…" She trailed off, lifting a finger to her lips, "I'll go first?"

He nodded his head.

"Okay… You're a ghost, but you can move things." He nodded. "Wouldn't that make you more like, a poltergeist?"

He rolled his eyes. "I guess you could say that."

"A little girl isn't going to pop out of my television and snatch me away, is she?" she asked, her hands flailing up in a defensive-manor.

He laughed; it was rich, deep, smooth, and Sakura absolutely _loved_ it. "No, and before you ask, I've never _snatched_ anybody, I can't touch people… I can touch things."

She nodded her head. "So, all talk, no game?"

He didn't reply.

"You can touch me."

His eyes narrowed at her, and she had a small, almost mocking smile on her face. "I can also walk through you, would you like to try it again?"

Her head flailed back and forth in the negative as she blanched, he had to hold back a chuckle at her antics. She scared quite easily... He'd have to remember that.

"Has anybody _ever_ heard you before?" she asked.

"No." He quieted for a second, and then continued, "Well… Okay, there was once a man who lived here—very old, all on his own, living off some quite a bit of money from a book he had written many years prior—who, every so often, would hear me scream. At first, he would ignore it, but eventually, he began _listening_ for my screams." He grimaced, "At one point, while he was sleeping, I put my mouth against his ear and screamed as loud as I could, he jolted up from his sleep, but I could tell it only sounded like a whisper to him." He sighed and wracked his fingers through his messy, black hair. "He eventually moved, deeming the house 'haunted,' but he did sell it anyway…" He laughed.

Sakura laughed along with him. "It technically _was_ haunted, you poltergeist!"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm so gosh-darn scary!"

"Can you talk your clothes off?"

His eyes widened and a blush crept onto his high cheekbones. "Pardon?"

Her eyes widened in realization of what she said, but she only giggled. "Excuse me, I don't mean that as in 'will you do it right now,' I mean like, _could you_ if you wanted to?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure; I never tried such a thing."

She grinned. "Will you?"

He couldn't help but stick his tongue out at the girl, something he had seen her do often in only knowing her for a day, and made no reply.

"Were you going to college?" She asked.

His face lost the playful nature it had adorned just seconds ago. "I was. I had been accepted into Harvard University for law… I wanted to be a lawyer, just like my father, and my older brother."

She nodded her head. "So you had a mother, a father, and an older brother… Any other siblings?"

He nodded his head in the negative. "We had a cousin who lived with us on occasion, he was my brother's best friend, but he eventually left for good a little before it happened…" He trailed off at the end, and then mentally slapped himself, realizing he may have said too much.

She nearly twitched. _"It?"_

"Ah, _it._"

"How…" she trailed off, and then bit her lip, as if to stop herself.

"How, what?" He asked, but he knew exactly what she wanted to ask. He'd rather her actually ask then him just tell her.

"Never mind." She shook her head, and tried to think of a different question to ask, but he interrupted her thought process.

He almost wanted to say, "You can ask," but he refrained, and allowed her to compose herself. She gave him a forced smile, and decided to continue with her questions. "What have you been doing for the past… 'seventy-or-so-years'?" She mocked him, and he laughed in response.

"I told you, Sakura, I've just been fucking around." He near regretted cursing in front of her, but she just giggled at his little slip. "I read a lot… And when I say a lot, I mean a lot, my favorite era is the sixties; some of these writers were incredible, some ridiculous… It was an interesting time," he reminisced, "The family that had lived her was quite strange; the mother and father were _very_ conservative, while they had an incredibly liberal, hippie daughter." His nose scrunched in disgust, "She smoked _a lot_ of marijuana in this room, along with digesting quite a few other things…"

She cracked up when his eyes widened in horror, knowing he had meant that the girl "had no shame" and she'd just _get it on_ with her parents upstairs.

"So, you like the sixties, but you're conservative?"

"I never said I was conservative." He pursed his lips.

"Are you?" She asked.

"… You'll find out," he winked at her, but then laughed at the strange face she made. "I'm more of a libertarian, if anything. I find myself siding more with republicans on economic, while socially, I'm for more of a democrat…"

She nodded her head. "What else did you do?"

He shrugged. "I observed… Generations changed quickly, and they were all clearly different. The change from the fifties to the sixties was _incredible_, seeing such conservative people suddenly turn into crazy hippies… When people were not home, I'd turn on the television and watch the news, just out of curiosity. I've seen many things and have seen many changes occur right before my eyes."

"That's incredible." Her eyes showed her interest and he held back a smile.

"I guess… I've learned a lot, having 'lived' this long," he made air-quotes when he said lived, "But it's pretty much _useless_…"

She laughed and slapped his arm, to which he winced and shot her a glare. "Don't say that! No information is useless information!"

He rolled his eyes—he did that a lot around her, he noticed—and stuck his tongue out, _again_. "Anything else, Sakura?"

"Hm…" She thought to herself—this was ridiculous! She had thought of so many questions earlier, and now that had all escaped her mind. Her faced flooded with annoyance, to his dismay, but he allowed her to think a while longer. "What's your favorite color?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Blue."

"Favorite food?"

"… Tomatoes."

"Favorite subject in school?"

"… Mathematics?"

"Favorite number?"

"_Sakura_."

"Sakura is _not_ a number—"

He cut her off. "What are you doing?"

She threw him a sheepish grin. "Well, uh, Sasuke, you see, I had all these lovely questions I had planned on asking you, and then I ate, and we walked back home, and then I forgot…" She trailed off.

He sighed, _yet again_. This was going to be a long night. "Is it my turn, then?"

She shrugged. "I guess."

"Firstly, I have some questions for you." She nodded her head.

He knew most of the following questions had nothing to do with their current situation, but hey, he was curious, she was interesting, and why should he have to stop himself from asking trivial questions? She had asked _him_ stupid things.

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"What grade are you in?"

"I'll be starting tenth grade next week." She grinned at this, excited to be slowly making her way to the top of the grade-pyramid.

He nodded in reply. "Is your hair natural?"

"Absolutely!" She beamed. "My birth-mother had pink hair!"

He laughed at her response. "Where are you from?"

"I was born in France, and then my brother and I were adopted when I was only a few days old; we grew up in California. My father was then offered a job in Japan when I was three, which he took, so we settled into Japanese life… It was quaint," she smiled softly; "I loved it there, and now, the company decided to send him to New York with an even _better_ offer. He couldn't turn it down, and he deserved it anyway, we'd never tell him no."

He smiled. "You are very good to your father. Your family seems lovely… Your mother is very loud, and your father is a tad on the strange side. You are like a mix of them."

She glared in response. "Are you calling me strange!?"

He grinned. "Yes I am."

"Bastard," she mumbled, but he ignored her.

"Why weren't you scared when I popped up out of nowhere?" His voice was a little more serious now.

She shrugged. "Was there any logical reason to be? If I screamed, nobody could see you, and they'd think I was crazy, or worse, you could've hurt me. I didn't know you, or who or what you were, what would've been the logic in freaking out? And if I had, what would my parents have done if I had told them that I had seen a ghost? Sent me to a mental hospital?" She shook her head negatively, "I think not!"

He laughed again, another thing he found himself doing a lot around her. When he was alive, he wasn't much of a laugher, unless he was around his mother. Suddenly, a small, happy smile surfaced on his face; the girl reminded him of his mother. She was loud, funny, didn't seem to think about her responses much before say them, she spoke a lot, rather than being quick and to the point, and she was kind and sweet and _genuine_.

Yes, she was just like his mother.

"Where are _you_ from?" She suddenly asked.

He shot her a mock-glare. "Hey, it's my turn!"

She thrust her tongue out at him. "Yeah, but I forgot my questions! Come _on_," she exaggerated her last word.

He looked annoyed, but answered her anyway. "I was born and raised in Japan, my father decided to move with my elder brother when he had been accepted into Harvard. My father had been offered to represent a famous mobster in an incredibly famous case, and he couldn't shoot down the offer. As much as I loved Japan, we decided it was just best if we all went together; we were not leaving much. We had family, but we were not very close, and I didn't have many friends…" He trailed off and then shrugged. "We had a cozy life here, I couldn't complain. I made a few close friends, and I got very close with my brother in the years we spent here… I had a good life," he finished, and nodded his head in approval of his small speech.

She smiled softly. "Seems like a good life. Did your father when the famous case?"

He nodded his head, meaning 'no.' "He died before he could finish the case."

She didn't press further. "Alright, Sasuke, you can continue on with your questions!" She waved at him, as if to push the words out of his mouth.

"Are you nervous to begin life at a new school?"

"Not really…" She trailed off, lifting a hand to her head, and then she began to scratch, as if doing so would produce an answer. "I get along with people very easily."

"Seems like it."

"What's that supposed to mean!?"

"It's a compliment," he laughed, "You get offended so easily!"

Her eyes narrowed. "That's not true."

He grinned. _"Sure_. Anyway… Have you ever seen a ghost before?"

"Not that I _know_ of… But who knows, really? I mean, there was no ghost in my other home, if that's what you're asking," she winked at him, "You're the only ghost for me, Sasuke-_kun_."

He glared at her, whether it was playful or not, she couldn't tell.

A silence settled upon then, and Sakura was the one who decided to break it. "Now, Sasuke, would you like to tell me what you know?"

His mouth set in a grim line. "I will begin by telling you I don't know much, but I will tell you as much as I can. When I died, I did not immediately settle here," her face twisted in confusion and absolute interest. "I went… up, to where, I'm not sure, so don't go asking me if God is real or if Buddha is resting up on a cloud, I don't know. I met somebody who told me that my life was not over. I had unfinished business and that I was not meant to die… I would meet somebody in the next two-hundred-years and they would give me my life back."

"How do you know it's me?" She barely fit her question in, he was on a roll.

He shrugged. "The person said I would just _know_, and I did… I feel a certain attachment to you, Sakura." He gave her the softest smile he could muster and it took everything in her not to just _melt_. For a ghost, he was _very_ handsome… "Literally." He winced, remembering the pain he had suffered earlier when trying to leave her.

She winked at his reaction, knowing exactly what he was thinking, but then immediately went back to being serious (he didn't understand how she could just fly back and forth between emotions like that). "But, what if it's not me?"

"When I tell you that it's you, Sakura, it's _you_." He was gazing directly into her eyes and she began blushing uncontrollably, despite herself.

She nearly slapped herself, how in the hell could a _ghost _make her blush? How could she even find him _slightly_ attractive, anyway!? He was dead! _"Remember, Sakura,"_ she thought, _"He's dead as a door-nail. Remember that."_

Her blush slowly subsided. "I believe you," she confirmed, whether it was for him or herself, she didn't know.

He nodded.

"What do I have to do?" She pushed a pink lock of hair behind her ear that had been falling out of place.

"Now, that's where the "I don't know much"-part comes in."

Her face fell. "You have _no idea?"_

"Well," he began, his hand rushing to the back of his head in a nervous habit. "I mean, I've come up with ideas on my own, but I was never told _how_, only that I would find the person who would find out how."

She raised a perfect, pink-colored eyebrow. "And those ideas would be?"

"Well, there's one main one…" He trailed off, pursing his lips tightly. "I think we may need to find my body."

She nodded her head. "That's doable; do you know where it is?"

He shot her a deadpan look. "If I knew where it was, don't you think I would've gone and found it on my own?"

She blanched. "No need to be _mean_…"

He sighed, and then gave her a soft smile. "I apologize, Sakura. That's the best I could come up with…" He shrugged, "My body was hidden when I died."

"Why's that?" She asked, not realizing that'd be like opening a can of worms.

He brushed her off. "Can't say I'm sure, but one way or another, I have a strong feeling my actual body has something to do with this."

She curled her lips against her teeth. "Wouldn't it be… decayed by now?"

He nodded his head in affirmation.

"So then… what would we do with it?"

He shrugged again. "I guess we'll find out, won't we—?"

"Sakura-chan!?" A male voice resonated throughout the room, the last word ringing in the sweetest way popular.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm upstairs, tou-chan!"

Sasuke didn't move. "Can I stay by you?" His voice was incredibly soft, like a small child begging for his mother to hold him.

She wasn't sure why he had suddenly begun acting like this, but she nodded her head in response. She didn't really have the heart to say "no."

He smiled at her, and didn't disappear to his crawl-space when her father popped in the room. Sasuke almost said "hello," but decided not to; the man could not see him anyway, and Sakura would probably laugh at him for it.

"Where's kaa-chan?" Sakura stood up from her bed, and started nearing her father. She had to hold back from rolling her eyes at the silly way he dressed; it was summer in New York, thus it was warm, but her father would never give up on his beloved scarves. People did give him strange looks (even Sasuke was right now, she noticed, but he didn't say anything), but he seldom cared what people thought about him.

Her father sighed. "Wandering the city, window shopping… You know, sweetheart, my favorite things to do!"

She giggled. "Sounds like fun, tou-chan, why didn't you go with her?"

He shot her a grin from under his scarf, though unnoticeable to the ghost next to her, Sakura caught it immediately and grinned back. "I wouldn't to see my _beautiful_ daughter and help her gather the rest of the things from the moving van!"

Her face fell. _"Fun_."

* * *

It was nearing eight o' clock when her mother finally wandered back to the house, but it wasn't until at least ten that they finished unloading all of Sakura's things from the truck, bringing them up using the dumb-waiter. Her father was having a blast with the contraption; he had exclaimed multiple times that he would use the device for absolutely _everything_, he was _mesmerized_.

Sasuke found it hilarious, seeing as these were a normal staple in homes when he was younger; his family didn't use it much, but it was there if ever needed. In fact, it was strange if you _didn't_ have one, but they had, apparently, gotten enough out of style that, if one came across one, it would be deemed incredibly interesting.

Sakura let out a loud huff as she fell back into her bed. She now had multiple coverings on it: a floral sheet, a thermal, baby-blue-colored blanket, a down comforter with dainty, blue blossoms draw on it, and three, large pillows. It was comfortable, but she would have no need for the blankets for the next few months anyway; it was a warm summer in America, she noticed, far warmer than in Japan, though she did not complain. An extra sheet lay neatly on her desk so she would not have to make her bed; she could just sleep on top of the soft comforter and fold her sheet every morning.

The girl would do nearly anything to make sure she didn't have extra work.

It was almost midnight once she had set up her room a little further, much to her dismay, and she was absolutely_ exhausted_. She cuddled up to her comforter, and let out a dreamy sigh. "Ne, Sasuke?"

He had been sitting on her desk chair (she'd remind herself to make sure nobody sat at a seat he was sitting in, because not only would that make her very uncomfortable and _freaked out_, but it was just plain _weird_), every once in a while he'd swivel in a circle. He looked him when she called his name. "What?"

"Do you sleep?"

He shrugged. "I don't _need_ to, but I _can_. I could go months without sleeping, I've tried it, and I'm completely unaffected, but sometimes I just sleep out of boredom… When I've read all the books, scared all the people, and done all my errands, I'd sleep for months sometimes," she had a sad look on her face, he noticed, but he didn't make a remark about it.

"Do you dream?"

Her features were now contorted into a looking of interest. He held back a laugh. "Yes, I do dream."

"What do you dream about?!"

He rolled his eyes. "What does anybody dream about? The future, my family, life…"

She nodded her head in response.

"Do you dream?" His voice was very soft, she could not tell if he was mocking her or if he was genuinely curious. Possibly both.

She snorted. "Of course I dream."

"What do _you_ dream about?"

She raised a perfect, pink eyebrow. "Recently, moving… My friends, my brother, my boyf—a good friend of mine."

He noticed her slip, but made no effort to ask what she was talking about. "Do you miss Japan?"

She snorted again (_how unladylike)_. "What the hell kind of question is that?" She shot him a glare. "Yes, I miss Japan. I mean, I don't _hate_ it here, but Japan is my home."

He nodded his head, ignoring her rough reaction. A sigh escaped his lips, and then he smiled at her. "You look tired."

"I am tired."

"Then you should go to bed."

She clicked her tongue. "I have something to do… Could you pass me the phone sitting on the desk over there?" He wasn't sure what she was asking; _could_ he physically pick up a phone and give it to her? Or would he please do it for her?

Either way, he reached behind himself toward the desk and grabbed the phone; her eyes widened and sparkled with interest. He threw the phone onto her bed, and she winked at him. "So you _are_ a poltergeist."

He stuck his tongue out at her.

Her attention was then stolen by her phone. What an interesting device, he thought; she could just touch the screen and make things happen, he had never seen such a thing like it. It had no chord, it was a crisp, white color, and she could even type on it, just like he'd seen her do on that computer of hers.

It wasn't that he hadn't seen newer technologies; he'd seen a computer before, but this was the first time a teenager had lived in the house recently, thus the only phone he had ever seen was the mesmerizing flip-phone.

Never had he seen such an interesting piece of machinery such as the one in her hands.

Before he could ask her about it, though, she had already worked her magic and it was in use, right up against her ear.

He heard a soft ringing emit from the phone—it was quite loud—and watched her fall back into a laying-down position on her bed. She was biting her lip and looked both anxious and nervous.

"Moshi moshi?" He saw her grin.

"Moshi moshi, Neji-kun…" Sakura shot the boy next to her a Look and he immediately took it as _get the hell out of here before I _chase_ you out of here_.

He'd have to ask her about that phone, too…

* * *

**I don't like it as much as the last chapter, but oh well. So, some questions have been answered, but still, not much has been said. REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 4

**things that go bump in the night  
**theeflowerchild

chapter four

* * *

"How do I look?"

Sakura was sure to be carefully quiet when addressing the ghost that currently plagued her room. She had taken to stage-whispering when her parents were home and she had to speak to her friend, of sorts (she wasn't exactly sure what her relationship with him was; he wasn't "her ghost," and she wouldn't say he was quite _haunting_ her, but friend tasted wrong in her mouth, though made the most sense). Currently, it was disgustingly early, almost seven o' clock, meaning the streets were not blaring with horns, curses and sirens just yet, thus allowing her parents easier access to her seemingly one-sided conversations.

It was _also_ the first morning of her first day of school.

A deep sigh filled the room. "You look fine, Sakura."

She pursed her lips, scrutinizing herself in the full-length mirror hanging on her cream walls. Her old school called for uniforms, so she wasn't exactly used to dressing herself for public school, and it was not as simple as it seemed; this being her third outfit. "Mother, could you come here!?" she yelled toward the open door, her voice carrying to the kitchen.

Along with adjusting to American life, the pinkette had taken to calling her parents _mother_ and _father_ at their request, as if doing so would help her accommodate even more so.

Sasuke sighed, once again, knitting his eyebrows together in frustration. "Sakura, you are a very pretty girl, is what you're wearing really a concern?"

She blushed a deep pink, but ignored the boy sitting comfortably on her mattress.

Her mother fluttered into the room; when she walked, Sasuke felt as if he was watching a silly girl from a Broadway musical, rather than a grown woman. Her hair fell around her like a chocolate crown of curls and her eyes were always a glittering red, like a ruby, rather than blood. She always had bloody lips, though, and the sweetest smile he _swears_ Sakura inherited, despite the fact that they are not related. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"I have no clue what to wear!" she explained to her mother, as if she was disappointed in herself. She huffed desperately at her reflection, pink eyebrows seaming together in annoyance.

Her mother sat herself upon the mattress while Sasuke removed himself, unbeknownst to her. Sakura would've been _very_ upset with him if he had stayed there (not that she really would have noticed, seeing as she was so wrapped up in her appearance)—little things like that gave her the creeps, he had learned—so he positioned himself comfortably upon the sill of the window, gazing softly at the pinkette who was twirling to and fro in the loose skirt that hanged perfectly at her waist.

Kurenai gently began caressing her own chin, staring intently at her daughter. "I like what you're wearing right now, dear."

"Really?" she turned toward her mother, floral skirt falling gently at her creamy legs as she stopped her fussing. It was an outfit her mother had bought her at an "urban" store in the East Village she had grown to love in their month of inhabiting Manhattan. A black lace shirt, with a black tank-top sewn carefully into it to keep bare skin from showing, and a flirty skirt she _knew_ her daughter would love.

"You look lovely, Sak, the Americans will simply adore you!" she squealed, removing herself from the bed and moving beside her daughter; when she walked, she looked like a trained ballet dancer, so dainty and perfect, as if each of her moves had been carefully thought out.

Her daughter rolled her eyes as her mother played with her hair, leaving a few, small, tight braids at her crown that she didn't dare remove. "Thanks, mom."

Her mother merely shrugged, waving a hand before telling her daughter, "Don't thank me, it's my job. Now go knock 'em dead, alright?"

She grinned at her mother, ignoring the laughter that emitted from the "empty" chair. "Would you expect any less?"

* * *

It had been three weeks since Sasuke and Sakura had exchanged both questions and answers, slowly but surely finding out the important and frivolous things about each other. They had discovered that Sasuke, indeed, could not leave the premises without the girl in tow unless he wanted to feel excruciating pain, but Sakura could leave him at the home. She could run errands without him, go to friends houses, etc, but he could not do the same (not that he _needed_ to). It had become evident that Sasuke did, indeed, _need_ her, but the need was not exactly mutual.

Things were beginning to gradually fall into place between them as they near-quickly adjusted to each other's schedules. They found it would be their best bet to simply accommodate, rather than fight over the fact that they were just about polar-opposites; they needed each other, despite their apparent stubbornness in admitting as such.

They did get along rather swimmingly, though. It was absolutely true that they were nothing like each other—Sakura being bold, bubbly and a giggling mess while Sasuke was quiet, reserved and almost always level-headed and calm—but Sasuke found himself growing more and more attached to the strange girl that had waltzed into his life each and every day. This only reassured him of the fact that this girl was _her_, the one that would help him retrieve his life and livelihood… Though he had absolutely no idea how they would go about doing so.

In the three weeks that had flown by containing the building of their friendship, they hadn't had much time to chat about the serious stuff, other than that day. Sasuke hadn't pushed much, seeing as she had been rushing to get ready for school. She had received summer assignments mere weeks before school was beginning and was expected to complete them, respectively, at the same dates as the rest of the students, despite the fact that she had only half the time. He allowed her to fuss over her clothes, supplies, and friends that she missed dearly before forcing her to dive into his crazy "life" that he didn't know much about himself.

He wouldn't lie, though, the girl was endearing; though he claimed it was the forces of the universe attaching him to this lovely, pink-haired mess of a girl, he couldn't help but admit—only to himself—that there was something about her he was just _drawn_ to. Not because she would be helping him, but simply because she was her, and she existed.

* * *

"Thank you for letting me go with you to school, again," he whispered to her, despite the fact that nobody could hear him. He had fallen in step beside her as she looked forward, her kitten heels clicking against the sidewalk.

She did not reply, but he saw her mouth twitch upward slightly.

The school was not far, perhaps a mile—if that much—from her brownstone. She loved walking through her neighborhood, anyway, and had even managed to make a friend in just a month or so of living on Manhattan Island. She had promised said friend that she'd meet him at the stop sign at seven-thirty-sharp and that they would walk to school together. She had also promised her little (over-protective, she thought, but didn't dare say out loud) ghost that he could meet the blonde boy she had been visiting by herself, rather than allowing him to join her as she did on most of her endeavors.

She slowed down when they reached the stop sign at the end of her block of brownstones, noticing the boy was early; it was five-to, and she immediately felt bad, expecting herself to be the early one. Sasuke, on the other hand, was annoyed at the fact that the boy was so eager.

"Is that him?" he asked her, attempting to hide the annoyance that laced his voice; he did a poor job of it.

She did not reply, only grinned rather softly at the blonde boy that was waving viciously at her appearance. "Naruto, good morning! I'm so sorry I made you wait!" she exclaimed, picking up speed to meet face-to-face with the boy.

He only scoffed. "Good morning! Don't even worry about it, Sakura, I was early anyway; I just couldn't wait to see you!"

She visibly flushed. "Don't be stupid—"

"Too late for that one, Sakura," Sasuke muttered to her, knowing she could not reply, but he saw her eyes flash dangerously, despite the sweet smile on her lips.

_Scary woman_.

"—Naruto! Be a little later tomorrow morning, okay?"

His face lit up. "You'll walk with me again tomorrow!?"

"Of course!" she assured him, patting his shoulder, before moving toward the edge of the curb. She looked both ways for cars and then began crossing the street. "Are you coming, Naruto?"

He nodded and raced toward her, slowing down when they were shoulder to shoulder. He was fairly taller than her, nearly a head—but not quite as tall as Sasuke, the ebony-haired-boy thought as if he were proud of that fact—and had blue eyes that rivaled the sky. He was muscular, tanned, and had scars on his face that resembled whiskers; living in the city, one could only assume it was from a dangerous, albeit stupid or pointless, fight. He was clad in the brightest of orange shirts, visible from space, and black, skinny jeans that looked _stupid_ in Sasuke's eyes.

Style was dead.

It took only ten or so more minutes for them to reach the public school of the area, the campus already littered with rowdy, teenage students from ages thirteen to eighteen, along with a few teachers attempting to calm them down. Sakura could only imagine what the hallways looked like.

She tensed at Naruto's side, who immediately noticed. "There's no reason to be nervous, Sakura; I promise it's not as bad as it looks. And you have me, right?"

Her shoulders did not fall from their rigid state, but she smiled nonetheless at the boy's sweet efforts. "Thank you, Naruto," she replied softly and sincerely.

Sasuke had to bite back a response along the lines of, _"how can you believe this bullshit?"_

* * *

School was not what Sasuke remembered, not in the slightest.

When he had attended secondary school, _back in the day—_as Sakura constantly said—it was far more conservative. There were uniforms, on one hand; always a brown or black color, with formal slacks, or skirts that reached passed the knee. Buttons were always fastened tightly at the neck, and girls did not dare show off unnecessary skin; in fact, that was nearly a turn-off when he was a teenage boy. He'd never dare pine over a girl who left nothing to the imagination—flappers, in his opinion, were totally unattractive—and he'd never associate with a boy clad in ridiculous, attention-seeking garments; only boys who were formally and properly clothed deserved his attention: boys and girls who followed the rules of society.

Now, nearly every single girl he had come into contact with (though, not _really_) was scantily clad, with skirts only covering the tips of their bottoms and see-through shirts with nothing but a bra underneath. Boys, on the other hand, wore jeans that looked _very _uncomfortable—and disturbingly tight—in his own opinion, occasionally with their underwear viewable to the eye of the public, along with hideously colored, graphic tees or button-down shirts they barely even bothered buttoning.

Sasuke was, in turn, _quite_ thrown off by the kids of this generation; he almost wished he had reserved himself to the attack, rather than attend school with the girl... Though, not that he'd admit (just yet) that he simply couldn't imagine spending more than a few hours without the pinkette by his side, anyway.

It was finally lunch time and Sasuke was almost grinding his teeth for some attention from the girl. Thankfully, the campus was an open one, thus kids normally ventured away for their eats.

"Can we talk now?" he asked her, walking carefully next to her. She was fiddling for her wallet in her bag, the school slowly becoming a small dot in the distance as she searched for a vendor.

She did not reply.

He pursed his lips tightly. "Come on, Sakura, there's nobody here! Can you please decide on some food or something so I can get a little attention, here? Being a ghost isn't as fun as you think."

She, again, did not make a motion to reply, but he noticed her lips quirk slightly and her eyes light with amusement; he couldn't help but be a little embarrassed by his outburst.

He decided to keep his mouth clasped for the rest of the walk in an attempt to not make a fool of himself. She remained quiet as well, moving at a steady pace in hopes of finding some moderately good food at a cheap vendor, but he saw her eyes flicker toward him every once in a while, which he chose to leave unacknowledged (payback, of sorts, though Sasuke wouldn't call himself a vengeful person). He had slowly been absorbed into his own world and thoughts and finally looked at her when she came to a sudden halt beside him, body going rigid.

He whirled around and saw she had gone completely pale, her rosy cheeks lost their color while the pink hairs on her arms stood erect in fear. His eyes furrowed in confusion and concern. "Sakura, are you okay?"

She didn't reply, but he didn't expect her to, either, seeing as a man had been passing by. He saw her shiver, her eyes focused solely on the dirty sidewalk. He didn't understand why she had suddenly been stricken with fear so he began searching their surroundings. Other than the man who had been passing and a vendor at the end of the street, it was completely empty around them.

His eyes averted to the older man who had passed; his feet barely made a sound as they hit the pavement, his shoes patent leather and obviously expensive. He was dressed in a suit that was far too formal to look normal while walking down the empty streets of Chelsea and his thin fingers were laced around a deep purple, snake-skin briefcase; he looked like he should be stationed on wall-street, or working in an expensive, executive building. His hair was black, glossy and pulled back in a low pony-tail at the nape of his neck by a purple ribbon; he was nearly the color of snow, with seemingly yellow-colored eyes and purple rings that indicated an incredible lack of sleep. The man would have gone completely unnoticed, if it weren't for the fact that the girl next to him looked shell-shocked at his passing and the obviously wealthy man had the smallest of smirks adorning his thin, discolored lips.

Sasuke felt a sort of rage flare in his chest as he made his way toward Sakura, who found her shoes to be the most interesting thing the world at the moment. There was not much he could do; it wasn't like she could reply to his words because somebody was so near and the man could not see Sasuke, so all he could do was leave a hand on her shoulder as they waited for the man to turn the street corner.

Once he did, Sasuke finally found his voice. "What the _hell_ was that, Sakura?" he asked her; he lifted a finger to her chin, pushing her face up so that their eyes met. Sakura could tell he was confused and, for some reason, angry.

She did not press his conflicting feelings as she herself was nearly scared out of her wits. "I..." she trailed off, eyes downcast despite the fact that Sasuke was nearly forcing her gaze upon his. "I'm not sure," she decided.

"You stopped breathing." His voice was stern and, even though he hadn't quite asked any questions, necessarily, she knew he wanted answers.

She decided that it'd be best if she just told him exactly what had happened, though she wasn't _too_ sure herself. If there was anything she _had_ really learned about Sasuke that seemed factual, he was incredibly quick-tempered and expected to always get his way. "He... I'm not sure, Sasuke. He just gave me a weird vibe, okay?"

"What are you talking about?" he lifted an eyebrow at, what he thought was, her stupidity.

She cringed. "His eyes..."

Now he was generally curious. "What about them?" He hadn't quite caught his face, other than the milky skin and the purple rings.

She bit her bottom lip.

"Answer me, Sakura."

"They looked like death," she explained. He wasn't sure if she had been trying to find the word to use, or if she genuinely didn't want to say it. Either way, he almost rolled his eyes, and dropped his hand from its presence on her shoulder.

"What does that even _mean?"_ he questioned and immediately regretted it, seeing her eyes flash dangerously.

"You don't believe me?"

"Now, Sakura, I never said that," he explained and began walking down the street again. He wasn't sure what exactly came over his companion, but he knew she always tended to be over-dramatic. "Sakura, this is New York City, you're going to encounter strange people—"

"He wasn't _strange_, Sasuke," she cut him off, "Well... I mean, okay, he was strange, but that wasn't it. There was... something _wrong_ with that man," she countered, catching up to him and falling into step. Her eyes caught a vendor down at the end of the road; they were already nearing a dock, and she only had forty-minutes or so left to finish her lunch and get back to class, so she decided she'd resign to whatever that food was. Though, at the moment, food was not the first thing on her mind. "You have to understand, that guy... He wasn't _right_."

"You can't be scared of ever strange man who passes you," he was nearly reprimanding her now, but she ignored his tone.

"Whatever, Sasuke," she gave up. He wasn't going to listen and either way, odds were, she'd never see that man again. It was just a strange vibe, she decided, and maybe Sasuke _was_ right; there were weird people, this was a major city.

She was just _so sure_ the second he passed her, she could nearly _smell_ the death emanating from him. And his _eyes_... He was not just some weirdo; no, there was definitely something... "special" about him. It was if that man had intentionally made the air around her thick, causing her heart to halt and her breathing to cease. It was like he sent that trickle of sweat down the back of her neck and that shiver up her spine with his own will. It was like he stopped her with a purpose, but he didn't even _acknowledge_ her.

To say she was _peeved_ would be an understatement, but she knew that the ghost next to her thought she was crazy and Sasuke tended to be right, for the most part. Maybe she was just being paranoid, seeing as she was technically alone and passing a grown man who didn't seem exactly normal.

Sasuke just didn't realize that for Sakura to be _afraid_ of something, meant she was _afraid_. He didn't put two and two together; if she wasn't afraid of a ghost, but of a man, perhaps there _was_ something wrong with that man.

Either way, he was long gone, and all the couple could do was walk toward the vendor for lunch and drop the subject.

* * *

That night, it rained the hardest Sakura had ever seen water fall before.

It pelted against the bricks of her home, hitting dangerously hard against the glass of her window, almost threatening to shatter the only thing keeping her from the torrential downpour. It was pitch-black outside, the streets lighting brightly when lightening struck the ground, followed by a loud roar of thunder. Sakura didn't make a comment on it, bet she felt as if this weather was an omen.

It was nearing three AM and Sakura was having a hard time sleeping, but she wasn't really shocked. She'd been on edge since the meeting (though they hadn't, technically, interacted) with that man on the streets of Chelsea. Sasuke noticed that she'd jump at every little noise, and her eyes flickered quickly around the rooms of all her afternoon classes. She was disturbingly close to Naruto on their walk home, as if expecting something to jump out at her on every little street corner, and spent most of her night sitting in the living room with her parents, terrified to leave their side.

When it was finally bed time, she had almost begged Sasuke to sleep in her room; either way, he ended up down their most nights, so he didn't protest her request. In the end, she hadn't fallen asleep.

Every once in a while Sasuke would demand she sleep, explaining that she had school the next day—"It's only your second day, Sakura, you're going to be exhausted!"—and she would shut her eyes tightly, praying that the sandman would come and put her to rest, but it was to no avail. She was almost positive she would not be sleeping tonight.

When the clock struck three, her phone rang.

She had to hold back a scream as she fell off the bed in shock; who could be calling her at this hour? Despite the time difference, her friends knew better than the call her while _she_ was sleeping. They had decided times when they would call and set up schedules. She could only imagine what emergency could have happened, or what could be going wrong.

She decided it would be best just to check her phone, rather than go through the list of people who could be calling her in her head. She saw Sasuke lift an eyebrow in annoyance at the phone that had thrust him from his thoughts, but he made no move to get it. She heard him mutter something along the lines of, "stupid teenagers with their stupid phones at stupid three AM, _stupid_."

She had kicked him in the shin in passing, to which he growled—Sakura actually found that quite adorable, even though Sasuke had been aiming for dangerous or _scary_. When she saw the caller ID that had popped up on her still-ringing phone, her brows furrowed in confusion and fear.

"_Unknown."_

She swallowed the lump in her throat—when had that gotten there?—and debated whether or not she should pick up her phone. It would only ring so many times before the call would succumb to her voice mail.

Ignoring her better judgment, she grabbed for the phone and pressed the pad of her thumb to the _answer_ icon. She lifted the receiver to her lips and swallowed loudly once more. "Hello?"

"_I know your situation, Miss Sakura," _was all that she heard before the call ended. The voice was incredibly deep, the letter s getting caught on the speakers tongue when vocalized. It was unfamiliar, made her toes curl, her stomach lurch and her eyes roll into the back of her head.

Sasuke immediately caught her in his arms before she hit the ground and cursed to himself. Nothing good ever comes with three AM.

* * *

**Cliff-hanger and THE PLOT THICKENS! Ohohohoho. Sorry this took so long to update! I started school (senior year, ew), things got a little hectic, I've been doing community service and I'm in all AP classes and asdfghjkl, but I really wanted to _finally_ get a little into the actual plot of the story, even if this isn't much. I hope to update at least once more within the next two weeks.**

**I'm applying early decision to the college of my dreams and that's what I've been focusing on, seeing as the deadline is the first of November and I'm barely half-way into the application. It's super hard to write a college essay, if you didn't know; I feel like I'm so uninteresting. Whatever! Wish me luck, okay? I'll need it. **

**I'd really like your constructive criticism! Your reviews make me want to write more, too! :) I feel like this is going to be a very long story, haha. I hope you enjoyed the update! **

**Review! **


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